


Dark Side of the Moon

by sparklight



Series: A Pattern of Chaos and Entropy [1]
Category: Transformers (Dreamwave Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Adventure, Cults, Foreshadowing, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long before the war, and well before Starscream even began paying attention to the gladiator games, Jetfire and Starscream end up embroiled in the doings of a cult. But what do they want with Starscream, and what's with that *crown*?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mission

Compared to Moon Alpha which was rather extensively built upon and mined from, Moon Beta had a primary spaceport and then scattered scientific observatories and some provisional hunting lodges. It wasn't even the Council which had lobbied for and gotten the second moon declared to be a natural preserve, but rather the scientific community along with nobles which had hunting as a... side interest. To be honest, though, that "preserve" should probably be "reserve" at least insofar as the Council was concerned and the energon the moon contained.

Either way, it left Moon Beta a rather solitary and naturally beautiful place. The spaceport a hub for visitors of various sorts but out in the wilderness it was less possible that one'd run into anyone, especially if one was on the "dark" side which faced away from Cybertron. 

The noble hunters preferred the eternally planet-facing side of Moon Beta, as that held the extensive areas of Langton's loopbrush which was the preferred habitat of the turbofoxes, and other visitors would travel that side as well, or the poles which straddled the curve of the moon where large crystal trees grew. The opposite side of the moon, that which faced away from Cybertron and was colloquially known as the "dark" side saw mostly visitors who didn't mind the lack of spectacular planet views and realised this side held other beauties, as well as scientists.

"It's got a curious energy vibration and atomic sub-structure... I assume the sunlight might have something to do with it," Jetfire muttered as he stood up, eyeing the readouts on the scanner and unconsciously shifting both arrays on his arms. Off to the left, crouching by a delicate spray of energon crystal in pink and blue, Starscream snorted.

"It's inside the blasted crystal matrix, clearly different from the regular matrix so that only works if the sunlight has generated some energon on its own!" 

Gesturing around them to the flat stretch of interlocking plates in the 'seams' of which energon bubbled up and spread out around the plain, sometimes creating pools and geysers, Starscream huffed and leaned down again.

"Starscream, you need to---"

"Be quiet and let me thi—augh!" crying out, Starscream jerked back, falling on his behind and scraping the nosecone kibble he had attached to his lower back against the ground harshly enough he grimaced as he caught himself on his hands. Jetfire shook his helm and gestured to the spray of crystal which had hidden a geyser inside of it. 

A geyser which was now spouting a fine mist of pinkish-purple energon in five bursts and then it quieted for a brief second until it sprayed up a thin, high-pressure stream of liquid energon.

"... back off." Jetfire finished, expression bland in the face of Starscream's glare as he twisted around and snapped up a hand to point at Jetfire warningly. "That particular geyser has a three-breem cycle of intermission and then a few seconds of activity." 

Jetfire shook his helm slowly and spread his hands, palms up, as Starscream bared his teeth at him and finally rubbed off the fine mist of purple highlighting his dark faceplates.

"As for the energon matrix... Natural conversion?" 

Starscream halted in his scowling advance, straightening up and folding his arms over his cockpit as he gave Jetfire a tilted stare.

"And if that's even _possible_ , why don't we have solar energy collectors and converters up?" said Starscream with a sneer, but even that was faltering by the end of his sentence as he actually started to think things over. Jetfire shook his helm again and swept his right arm out, the black armour glass on his cockpit flickering with slithers of reflected sunlight. 

"Look around you. Why would we _need to_? I'm not saying its a bad idea, but consider presenting this theory to any board or level of government." Jetfire paused, an arch to the upper edge of an optic, and Starscream sneered again, but not at Jetfire.

"Right. It'd cost too much to explore the possibility. Even our division for alternate energy sources would claim that." Derision fairly dripped from Starscream's voice as he looked over the plain, red optics flickering over crystal structures made from re-solidified energon after it evaporated, or the leftovers from the geysers. The structures were anything from knee-high to taller than Jetfire, but slimmer, more fragile than the proper crystal trees that grew at the poles.

Jagged outcroppings of disturbed metal created tiny falls of energon that spilled into pools that bubbled up from underground or pooled at the junctures between the seams in the plates. These falls elsewhere on the moon grew into more impressive heights where the flat ground rose more sharply and proper raw energon crystals thrust out of the ground instead of the plasma version of energon in evidence here.

The air was tinted faintly pink from the mist of energon where the sunlight hit right, and Jetfire wondered if it was energon from the geysers and the pools, or sunlight-converted energon just entering a stage where it was heavy and thick enough to be seen. 

"Despite the name, the department does prefer avenues of research which simply deals with more effective ways of processing or storing energon, yes." There might have been faint notes of annoyance beneath the blandness in Jetfire's voice and expression both, and Starscream smirked. 

He was more pleased than perhaps was warranted by the faint proof of Jetfire reaching the end of his understanding and patience, or at least the beginnings of such. The air guardian was patient to a fault, but he didn't like artificial obstacles in his way that had nothing to do with ethics and morals.

"Near-focused _foolishness_ is what it is..." huffing, Starscream turned away from Jetfire and cast a glare out over the still, glowing landscape. The atmosphere was high and thin on the moons, leaving voices somewhat odd, but otherwise serviceable and audible. 

The only thing that moved were the very tips of a few high energon deposit reeds from the faint breeze that was negligent enough Starscream didn't bother to heighten the sensitivity of his atmospheric pressure nodes to keep track of it. The only other thing besides the reeds was a small collection of nearly translucent shapes far up in the air that in the sunlight turned nearly invisible against the black sky. They had a few, flickering spots of harshly reflected light as they moved and...

"Did you see that?" Starscream turned his helm, staring at the jutting little outcropping from which a fall of pure pinkish-purple energon burbled, the pool turning pink and blue in rings closer to the edges of its shores where impurities bled into it.

"Hmm?" murmured Jetfire off behind him, the sound of polished metal shifting against metal in muted, sweeping scrapes as Jetfire probably stood up, and Starscream growled.

"Something _moved_ \---"

"Lilleth."

"I know what a lilleth looks like you blithering wreck, and that wasn't---" 

Engine revving, Starscream whirled around and was all queued up for a tantrum about Jetfire ignoring his very veracious points and underestimating his observational skills and ability to analyse any given situation, but snapped his mouth shut on nothing as his vocaliser turned off automatically at what he'd turned around to be faced with.

Oh.

"I know. What else were you going to say?" Jetfire's voice was soft, making it hard to hear in the lack of heavy atmosphere as he stood with a hand raised to allow the delicate winged creature something to hold on to. Starscream was annoyed that he let the presence of the lilleth halt the words Jetfire so deserved, but... Well.

Jetfire's expression was narrowed in concentration even while his lips were curiously soft as he held still. The lilleth, on the other hand, had the lowest of its three pairs of wings curled around the air guardian's large hand, lacking anything like claws to let it hold onto something. 

The second pair of wings which allowed it primitive mechanical flight instead of more efficient jet-assisted such were curled against its body, the decorative fiber-optic thin strands that hung from the tips as well as from its tail creating lines of glittering fire where the light hit. The last pair, small like the ones curled around Jetfire's hand, were spread against the black sky, impurities in the nearly translucently thin metal catching the light and turning the wings into a spectrum riot of colour.

Lilleths were delicate, the metal they were made of similar to armour-glass when lacking in colour-tints, though far more fragile. The light made it possible to see nearly completely through the creatures, only disturbed by patches of colour impurities and the sunlight falling to turn spots into blazing brightness only stopped by polarizing one's vision.

"Anyone else supposed to be around here at the same time as us?" Starscream would have scoffed with incredulity at himself, because blast it all, it was merely a lilleth perched on Jetfire's hand, stretching its pointed little head forward, its three optics blazing little jewels of purple... and yet he kept his voice low enough to not scare it off.

"Hmm..." Jetfire's intense-relaxed expression focused slightly, but otherwise he didn't move, which was enough to make the lilleth settle again, the tinkling rasp of metal against metal nearly impossible to hear. "There's a group up north, researching the growth pattern of the crystal trees to compare with the same on Cybertron and see what differences there is. There's an independent researcher in outpost BV//1-65 who hasn't disclosed his research parameters, so I assume it's some sort of patent research, and another group south, researching mercury impurities in energon by direct integration and indirect through evaporation deposits since there's a mercury lake there." Jetfire shrugged and at the same time tossed his hand upward, sending the lilleth skywards as it let go, startled.

"So no, no one immediately close to this area." frowning, Jetfire looked around. But really, like Starscream had noted there was nothing to see except pools of energon, energon deposit crystals of various size, and a few scattered lilleths hiding in the larger reeds.

"I _knew_ you'd know all that," said Starscream, optics flickering down towards the ground in an exasperated sneer that wasn't _quite_ as harsh as it might otherwise be. Stalking up to Jetfire, he slapped the hand that automatically was raised but didn't protest when it briefly curled around the wing on his arm anyway. 

"So that means someone's out there that _shouldn't_ be." 

Briefly leaning against Jetfire, pausing for the same time it took to take a step, Starscream then continued past the other mech and gave another sweeping glare over the landscape. 

Nothing. 

Which was utterly, completely incomprehensible and the moon was now just _mocking him_! He knew he had seen _something_.

With an annoyed growl, Starscream stalked further beyond Jetfire and then started to walk in a wide circle, glowering at everything and nothing, their current reason for being out here firmly ignored in favour of his frustrated and offended ego. 

Jetfire gave the circling Seeker a dry, arch stare, shook his helm and knelt down by the geyser Starscream had abandoned.

The bent over position hid the tiny smile hovering about his lips, which was probably just as well, because he didn't currently feel like having to field Starscream's offended ego if he noticed said smile. Looking up with a frown as a tiny flock of lilleths in a nearby copse of reeds suddenly exploded out of their perches in a riot of colour and sun-lit glare, Jetfire still didn't miss the muted clatter of metal.

That had been distinctly different from the thump-clack of Starscream's feet meeting the ground, thruster first and then the front guard. He also couldn't think of any other sound Starscream would end up making that'd sound like that except for Starscream falling.

And if he'd slipped and fallen, the air ought to be rife with curses and more elaborate anger.

"Starscream?"

Standing up and putting away the scanner he'd been using, Jetfire looked around, trying to filter away the unnecessary sounds and the glare of sunlight on the energon pools. His audio receptors echoing with the vibrating tinkling sound that was more felt than heard from the disturbed reeds, it was harder to get rid of that than polarizing his vision to get a sharper view of his surroundings.

Where was---

::Jetfire! How in the name of Cybertron did you miss the obnoxiously yell---:: The comm suddenly cut out and not, Jetfire would guess, from distance. Whirling around, the landscape was empty, and his pings on their frequency echoed out into a yawning nothingness when they met Starscream's systems. Offline, and while Moon Beta was a lot smaller than Cybertron, if whatever apparently had him got far enough away, Starscream would end up out of comm. reach.

Blast it all!

Hopefully, though... Letting out a measured vent, Jetfire cycled up his flight systems and sent a completely _different_ request ping and after a few, empty astroseconds got a reply.

South and east.

Mouth set in a thin line and de-prioritising worry and uncertainty so he'd be able to do something and not get locked up, Jetfire shot up into the air, aiming more straight upwards than immediately in the given direction. 

The moon, like Cybertron, was round after all, and if south and east wasn't the final destination, it'd take him less time to correct his course if he was _above_ instead of low to the ground. There were a few moments he thought he'd lost Starscream's direction, and then there'd be a pulse back with a set of coordinates or something less concrete. 

As the kliks wore on, Jetfire felt the frown settle more firmly. 

Not simply because of the time this was taking, but rather because they seemed to be heading in the direction of the eastern energon crystal fields.

The radiation wouldn't kill him if he kept a respectful distance, but if whoever had Starscream... The direction/location suddenly stabilised, and stayed within what was a rather limited area for several more kliks. Then a full breem and more, and the energon in his tanks settled heavily at the bottom - or at least it felt that way.

Dropping like a stone from his hover, heat wavering off and warming his metal until he nearly imitated an actual meteor burning through the atmosphere, the only thing that stopped Jetfire from hitting the ground was the positively _humongous_ cluster of giant crystals in his way. It forced him to angle sharply upwards again since there was no easily spotted gaps large enough for him to get through.

And even if there had been, the radiation would be killer.

Hovering above the crystals that almost looked like a bowl from above, Jetfire let his optics focus instead of going down close to inspect the area. First he needed to find out if he'd be able to get inside from the air at all, and if not, then figure out where any other entrances were. 

There were many smaller gaps that a minibot could easily have gone through, a few someone the size of Starscream could have squeezed through without too much trouble and...

Frowning, Jetfire drifted sideways slowly, changing his angle--- Ah, there. He wouldn't be able to just tear through it, but if he lowered himself carefully through with antigravs on and his thrusters as a counter-force he should be able to get through. His wings would be an issue, and he'd have to keep his arms and their arrays mostly in front of him, but it ought to work.

If he could find a way around the _radiation_ that was.

Eyeing the hole, Jetfire reluctantly flew back to where their equipment was, gathering it up and flying back to the research outpost he and Starscream was borrowing for their stay on the moon. He needed to get inside, but even if that cluster of crystals had been free-standing, away from the major energon crystal field, he wouldn't have been able to get inside without stasis locking from the radiation damage... And that still didn't take into account what things looked like inside, but he had to take _some_ risks.

Leaning back against the work-bench, arms laid over each other against his chestplates, Jetfire's optics dimmed and softened as he thought. What he needed to do was think. 

Energon. 

Energon research, energon's radiation effects on cybertronian frames, sparks, the environment, native Cybertron or not---

His nearly-offline optics narrowed as he turned that last over. There was something... Yes. Their short mission to follow up on a six vorn old report about the effect, or lack thereof, of energon radiation on organic carbon structures. 

The planet the initial report had concerned circled another - as was usual - twin sun system, wreathed in two gaseous rings and with several moons that had showed some suggestion of future or possible organic life on their own.

They'd been able to confirm organic lifeforms' resistance to energon radiation, _as long as their bodies remained uninjured_. They'd needed to confirm that, and Starscream had suggested they'd just capture one of the primitive lifeforms, get a slice of energon and stab it somewhere non-lethal.

Jetfire had... almost agreed. 

It didn't seem completely right, but at the same time it'd be expedient and they wouldn't lethally injure it, but there was no telling what the energon radiation would do to the damaged tissues and broken cells, or if they could heal it to make up for said damage.

In the end it had been moot as some of the larger creatures had started to fight, one of them injured enough it fell and couldn't rise, and was promptly ignored by its opponent. They hadn't even had to move an energon crystal close-by, as there already was one there.

Rubbing his faceplates, Jetfire slowly shook his helm. Right. Organic carbon as a protective layer ought to shield him from the radiation. He ought to be able to create something temporary with a coating on his frame and creating a current along it to jump-start the reaction that would activate the atoms.

Then he grimaced at the thought of something like that _covering him_ , but if that was what was needed...

In the end, it was the only thing he could come up with on a short notice. Technically he could (should) have alerted the spaceport security, but they'd tell him to stand down and do nothing until they arrived, and if they didn't feel like taking this little problem on immediately, who knew how long he'd end up waiting?

That just wasn't acceptable.

A cycle later, Jetfire was back over the crystal "bowl", feeling awkward and somewhat displeased by the feeling of the coating he'd whipped up. For a brief moment he'd thought he'd lost the location of the bowl, which was _ridiculous_ since he knew exactly where he'd been before, and _yet_... He'd solved the problem by sending a ping for Starscream again, and the response was... curious.

It was a lot more exact than the emergency ping system they'd set up could manage, almost as if Starscream was online again, but any further attempts at contact had remained unanswered. It did leave Jetfire feeling a certain sense of hurried unease, which was why he didn't linger long and instead snapped the current on, feeling the reaction spread like fire in a short-circuited wire-net.

Lips pressed together in a thin line and a frown hovering around his mouth, Jetfire sort of air-climbed through the whole, wings tucked in tight against his sides. If he'd had the space or dared to take off his whole flight array to lower it down through the hole first, the endeavour wouldn't have been as slow as it was. He didn't want to take the time to have to reattach it when he was through on the other side, however, given that he knew nothing of what things looked like there.

Aware of the astroseconds and then seconds slipping by to when the organic carbon layer would start to deteriorate and with it, his protection, Jetfire worked as fast as he could and with a last push, dropped through.

He was lucky the forcefield that obviously kept the radiation from affecting the inside of the "bowl" had let him through. Otherwise he'd have stasis locked and been burned through by the radiation, trapped between the crystals and the forcefield that hummed above him with a faint green waver in the air as its only evidence of being there.

"Well." 

Landing, Jetfire looked around, alert for his presence having stirred a response - though he suddenly realised how foolish this was as he was neither equipped for, nor knowledgeable of weapons and if anyone attacked him, the best he could do would be to dodge.

Not a single frame burst out into the courtyard that was in front of the rounded, domed building and everything remained silent. The lack of reaction or response to his landing was a bit unsettling actually. Why _would_ it go unnoticed? It wasn't as if he'd had the possibility of being careful or secret with his 'breaking and entering'.

"I have no idea how you manage to get into these situations, Starscream," muttered Jetfire as he eyed the golden building, easily picking up on the definitively religious overtones. It was mostly in the lines of the six-sided, interlocking plates that made up the building, etched with a similar if more elongated pattern inside each individual plate... The Matrix Shrine in the Stellar Galleries held a similar pattern.

But, besides the look of the building, there was another proof that Jetfire saw clearly first when he came closer, even if the glyphs emblazoned above the closed doors had been visible from further away. Age and lack of exacting care had smudged the lines which didn't just form the shape of the physical glyphs, but also the more subtle etching work that'd add modifiers and inflections.

It made it hard to read the thing at a distance, especially since written cybertronian required a different method than verbal or comm. frequency communication.

"... 'I am alpha and omega, the beginning and the end. I am that which is, which was, and is yet to come... and you will know my name is Megatron when I lay my vengeance upon you!'" 

Reading the words slowly and out loud though in a sub-sonic undertone, Jetfire frowned up at the bold glyphs. 

The designation was a curious one, the first part basically meaning protector... or conqueror, depending on the inflection of the glyph. Unfortunately any modifier that could have given a pointer hadn't been worn away; there just wasn't any. Which was curious in itself, since that most probably meant both meanings should be used, though perhaps depending on the situations the designation was used when it appeared in a longer text.

The second meant world, which was easy enough since that was a glyph he saw often enough... Or, hmm... if the glyph was actually angled a little and the time since it had been etched into the metal had eroded it a little, it'd mean 'universe'... or even 'creation'. If it was the latter, the ending would have a tacked-on '-us' at the end. Jetfire was a bit annoyed at the lack of care; vibrational and light-spectrum modifiers in the etching of the glyphs would have helped greatly here.

"... Really don't know how you manage it." the groan slipped out, surprisingly loud after speaking in the sub-sonic range, and Jetfire looked around, optics bright.

Nothing happened.

Giving the inscription above the doors another glance and a narrow frown, Jetfire went to follow the wall. He was rather sure attempting to walk right through the main entrance wouldn't end well, despite the stillness and lack of defense he'd met so far.

A breem later and Jetfire wondered if he'd have to look over the possibility of using the main entrance anyway, because he could find no other way in. The walls were smooth, only the barest crease of seam where each angle of a plate fit up against another. No suggestion at all of a side-entrance anywhere. 

Letting out a heavy, still-cool exvent in exasperation, he leaned back against the wall and stared down at the ground. He had no idea what to do---

And then the six-sided plate immediately to the left of him slid open, revealing a faintly-lit entrance. 

Backing away from the wall and the sudden entrance both, Jetfire stared, his wings flicking from being angled out from his sides to tightly against them, but... what choice did he have? It was this, or the main entrance. He hadn't even known there was any sort of door _there_ until it opened!

The corridor beyond was empty and quiet.

Staring down along it until it angled into a corner, Jetfire heaved another exvent - hot, this time - as well as a static sigh, straightened up, and went inside.

The door slid closed behind him, leaving him in a curiously humming silence.


	2. The Beginnings of the Pattern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jetfire wanders the temple, and finds a few things.

Jetfire had a firm suspicion that he was being led around by the hand. It hadn't really been overly obvious while there was only one corridor to follow, bathed in a slightly pinkish, warm yellow light that reminded of high noon a clear day anywhere close to the Rust Sea. Jetfire recognised the colour simply because the Academy was in Altihex which had a coastal edge, and if he hadn't spent the last few vorns there, he wouldn't have been able to pick it out. Nova Cronum's light tended more towards a washed-out bronze, especially in the north, towards the polar state of Iacon.

But light or no, when the corridor had come to a branching with one to each side of the corridor that went straight there was only one he could take. The other two had humming forcefields blocking the way, and similarly to the door he'd been let through, no matter how he looked around there didn't seem to be any control panel for either of the two corridors' forcefields.

Giving the two blocked corridors a dry stare, Jetfire hoped this wouldn't become a pattern and wandered down the right-hand corridor. Because if it _did_ become a pattern, perhaps this was the way the... members of this temple had decided to deal with him, leading him around until he came out where they wanted to and could easily deal with him - or not at all, and that thought made his wings and the arrays on his arms all twitch.

Unfortunately, as he walked down the winding or slightly curving corridors that sported the same patterns as the outside of the building, it certainly _did_ become a pattern. Sometimes he wasn't led through connecting corridors however, but rather ended up having to try doors, of which only one or maybe two would work - that seemed to be the only choice he had here, the doors.

It was a bit odd.

Standing between such a two-door choice, each door literally facing the other, Jetfire frowned. The right led into what seemed to be an open balcony, overlooking a larger room that took up the floor below. Simply because of the larger space that room seemed more attractive than the left one, which led into a dim, high-vaulted gallery-like room not that much wider than the corridor he was currently standing in.

He almost turned to take the right, but in turning, the light angling into the left-hand room caught something. Pausing, Jetfire reluctantly turned back, stopping right in the doorway to be able to look inside but not any more than that.

Writing.

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, Jetfire knew exactly what would happen if he went through the door; the door would close and then lock behind him, and he'd have to take this room and hope there was another door opposite, or a corridor. 

He'd probably end up not understanding the writing anyway, much as he'd been able to read but couldn't exactly figure out the meaning of the glyphs that had been above the entrance to the temple.

"... Well, if trying to rescue you doesn't kill me... perhaps my own curiosity will," mumbled Jetfire as he cast a look around to the other door and the open space beyond, and then stepped through. The door swooshed shut with a gentle whisper of air pressure, not even the slightest drag of metal on metal, and the humming click of an electric vacuum-lock activating was loud in the silence.

"No more... er, guiding light, hm." Jetfire looked around, the majority of the vaulted gallery remaining cast in shadows as the only light was a muted iridescence coming from fixtures set into the left-hand wall. That, along with the light from the corridor, was what had caught on the glyphs etched in sunk-relief into the wall.

Surrounding the glyphs as they scrolled down the wall, connected to the wall by magnetism, were tiny, transparent metal globules filled with various gases. They glowed in anything from deeply brownish-red, to nearly whitish-blue, and while the colour-range suggested what they were, it wasn't before Jetfire took a few steps back into the middle of the floor that the whole thing made sense, confirming his suspicion.

Stars.

The low light of the gallery hall suddenly made sense, and Jetfire also remembered one of the public rooms of the Stellar Galleries in the High Council Pavilions having a similar set-up, though much larger and extending from not just the walls, but the ceilings as well.

Avoiding the glyphs for the moment, Jetfire walked along the length of them, frowning at the high-relief carvings at each end of the line of glyphs, and thus, each end of the gallery. One was of Cybertron, the interlocking continents and the two moons saw to identifying that. The other... Jetfire wasn't sure. It had a single and thin well-defined and clearly _solid_ metal ring around its middle, plus a sunk-relief carving in its center of a circle with a jagged line down it. The low light in the room cast the jagged line in consuming darkness.

It was just a carving, and yet it instilled a sense of unease, which just drew up frustration and irritability from the air guardian. Not because he felt it; he was well aware suppressing emotions wasn't a good thing and emotions in themselves were useful as long as they didn't get out of hand. No, the issue was that here they seemed to have done just that with the way he felt. There was just no reason to react like this because of a _carving_.

In the middle of the gallery, above a brief break in the glyphs, was a third planet, carved in extreme high-relief with a single attendant moon and wreathed in clouds. The meaning of it all escaped him, and focusing on the glyphs didn't _really_ help.

At first the sentence didn't make sense at all, but then Jetfire realised there wasn't just a single sentence, but rather two separate segment and then it... well, it didn't make sense in the way that he understood what it was about, but at least he could read it.

"'And the sun and its brother shall storm over the new world to reveal the beast and destroy it.' Makes as much sense as... well. Anything." Frowning at the glyphs, lit by the muted iridescence from the wall-fixtures and the artificial 'stars', Jetfire wandered over to the other end, to the segment that started by the carving of Cybertron.

The high-relief small planet in the middle caught his optics as he passed, and Jetfire paused, running a hand down its curve, then followed the delicate, swirling lines of clouds.

"What are you doing here..?" 

Shaking his helm, Jetfire went to the start of the other segment and once again paused. Something was... different, with this set of glyphs. He also realised, now that he thought about it, that the sentence above the entrance had been... _somehow_ , different than _either of_ these two segments.

He actually had to really _concentrate_ to see it now, whereas he was rather sure that before he'd read them, they hadn't just looked different, but they'd also been nearly unreadable... He was going to get a processor-ache, this way. 

Frowning, Jetfire looked from one sentence to the next, wandering up and down the gallery; the sentence that started by the planet with the ring around it had glyphs that were somewhat more rounded, used more curves than the one that started by Cybertron, being more... not jagged, but rather more angled. They both were somewhat familiar to the glyphs he knew but... 

Briefly pinching his nasal ridge ridge before he rubbed his chestplates over his spark and then folded his arms over the same, Jetfire turned to actually read the second segment.

"... 'In the spark of an enemy, there will be salvation, and in the darkest hour, there will be a light.'" He couldn't quite keep the static sigh from not escaping. This all sounded very similar to what could be read in the Covenant of Primus, the single time he'd read it as part of his primary programming as a protoform... Actually, he was rather sure he could remember both of these sentences now that he was actually thinking about it, though they'd been further into the Covenant than they ever read as part of the obligated text while in Primary.

He'd just been... curious, and thus read further along, despite not agreeing at all with the religious ideas of their origins by the hand of the so-called god of light and creation, their supposed creator, Primus.

Stepping back from the wall and ending up in the middle of the floor again, Jetfire considered the wall. Frowning, he backed off even further, feeling there was _something_ here he was missing. 

Some pattern, or part of it... His back hitting the opposite wall, Jetfire followed the shadow-sucking glyphs in their sunk-relief, them being inside the building and this not exposed to wearing wind and other erosive or corrosive forces having preserved the faint traces of modifiers used. Though compared to the segment above the entrance outside, these two didn't really _need_ modifiers. They used them, but they were all merely enforcing the simpleness, the directness of what was being said.

Two planets on each side, a multitude of stars between them, a planet in the middle, both sentences describing either two different things, or _the same thing_ , just differently phrased and perhaps with a different focus. But what was even the _reason_ for the decorative addition of implied _space_...

... Time-space?

A single, or if not singular, two connected events occurring in the same place, with these three planets involved?

Maybe. 

If anything, _perhaps_ it was all part of the pattern that seemed to be suggested here, in some way. But what the pattern _was_ , Jetfire couldn't tell. 

And what did this, if anything, _have to do with Starscream_? 

Rubbing a hand over his helm and briefly pulling the mask/visor down but not activating the optic visor so he could actually see out, Jetfire allowed himself a moment of frustrated darkness.

Then, feeling somewhat foolish and _definitely_ like he was wasting time, Jetfire straightened up. Since while he'd been standing here reading religious drivel that had no obvious connection to what was going on, Starscream was... 

Who knew what was happening to Starscream.

Snapping the mask back up, Jetfire turned to walk down the corridor to the end, when a twist in one of the panels of what Jetfire had thought to be another wall made him pause. That... wasn't actually a wall. Well, it was, but it wasn't a _solid_ wall, but rather there were... one way mirror windows set in it.

Taking a step back, Jetfire changed his vision and focus.

Optics widening a fraction and definitely brightening, Jetfire stared. Stared, and hoped no one looked up even if he was sure the gallery was too dark, since they _might_ see him standing there and then they'd definitely know someone who shouldn't be here was intruding.

The room, or rather hall beyond and below the gallery Jetfire was standing in was a giant amphitheatre, and if he was to guess, it probably took up at least a fifth of the overall temple's space... Probably set up against the outer wall somewhere in the building, the way the bottom and the wall furthest away curved.

The tiered terraces were _packed_ , and might explain why no one at all had been paying attention to what was going on outside the temple. Though it did make Jetfire question who, or what, had been guiding him around this whole time then, because he certainly _had been_ led around.

The... worshippers? cultists? all had a curiously similar style that implied they had eschewed altmode kibble - and thus wouldn't be able to transform - in favour of their uniform look. They were all shimmering gold, but Jetfire could see most of it was paint. High-quality, and would last long enough, but simple paint and not native colour-nanites. Only a few in the sea of gold paint seemed to sport more or less native coats or details in actual gold, or golden yellow.

Besides the colour, they all sported high, rounded collars and smooth, rounded lower legs... the rest were as different as any given cybertronian would be next to another, even in plain pre-altmode protoform armour, though they did all wear some form of extra, removable helmets that were simple, rounded domes.

It all looked a bit silly.

The real centre of attention wasn't the cultists, of course, or even the golden mech wearing a black robe embroidered with flames over the metal mesh-weave cloth who stood at the head of the floor at the bottom of the amphitheatre. No, the real centre of attention, which Jetfire had consciously avoided just to be able to pay attention to the rest - he did note that the glyphs above the entrance were repeated on the wall that made up the back of the amphitheatre - was Starscream.

Starscream, who was sitting on what could only be called a throne, the like of which you would not even, or perhaps rather "never", see the Prime or the members of the Council of Ancients in. It was huge, easily accommodating the Seeker without really dwarfing him, the back of it made out of stylised flames which obviously also had some hidden light-sources since the flames were lit up in blue, orange and gold, contrasting against the black throne.

Starscream, whose optics were incandescent against his dark face, a sharp little smile on his faceplates Jetfire could tell even from this distance, without focusing his vision, screamed smugness. 

He was polished and sharp, but something... was off. 

It might have been the faint lack of a firmer grip on the throne's arms, the softened lines suggesting a relaxation in Starscream's frame that he _never_ displayed among others - hardly even to Jetfire, even now.

Of course, none of that took into account the thing on Starscream's _helm_. He wasn't sure how to describe it, or what to think of it, but the golden contraption was, he had to admit, definitely something Starscream would probably like to own if he'd known about it. It had tines that were slightly curved, boldly rising up from the central band and decorated with rubies cut with star facets that, Jetfire thought, created flame reflections deep within them. It was hard to tell from this distance.

It took a lot of self-control to not attempt a comm. ping, but even considering what had happened the last time, lack of response and all, Jetfire didn't want to risk anything. It wasn't _easy_ though, and looking through the window down at Starscream's strangely soft, yet sharp expression, Jetfire didn't particularly _want to_ wait to do something.

Starscream shouldn't just be _sitting there_ , doing nothing, but he was and that was just... Raising a hand to rest it against the dark window, Jetfire had no idea how to get Starscream out of here. How to get past the tiers of cultists - and flying didn't count, getting to Starscream would only be half the battle. How to... snap him out of whatever state he was in.

Well, he'd need to find a way _into_ the hall below first. Attempting to crash to the window, while dramatic, was probably not a good idea.

With a frown and his optics dim, Jetfire stepped away from the window, letting his hand fall away slowly, and left the gallery, the door on the other end opening automatically as he came close. Beyond were a set of stairs, though Jetfire took this opportunity to hover down them instead of walking. The stairwell was wide enough, especially as they were neither narrow nor spiralled tightly around themselves. Rather, the stairs curved gently around themselves with a wide but definite incline... and slightly away from the hall he'd looked down in, but there wasn't much else he could do.

At the bottom, the door opened up into a room with a large computer console against one wall, and one-way mirror window into the hall again on the wall opposite from the computer. The room was dark, lit only by faint lights set high on the wall above the computer, and the idle-but-online computer screen itself. It was dark enough the hall was much brighter, which meant the room was safe.

He hoped, anyway.

Casting a brief, reflexive glance towards the window but making no move to get trapped looking into the hall again, Jetfire turned towards the computer. And thus, standing before it in the middle of the room, couldn't really miss the glyphs, lit up by the faint light shining right down on them, set against the wall above the computer console.

"I don't have _time_..." 

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jetfire barely kept from groaning, and then looked up at the glyphs. Despite the lines being sharp and precise, every little modifier using a crisp vibration of light and tension, Jetfire had the distinct feeling these glyphs were old.

Older than the ones at the entrance, even, and at first his optics unfocused without his conscious control, but resetting them and concentrating on the glyphs again, they slowly made sense.

Or as much as any of these sentences had made sense so far.

"'... and whereas all things rise in light, existence taxes it. But the darkness which stands opposite to the spark of light is not entropy but the inversion of it. The shadowed end of all beginnings stands as the last line of defense against the all-consuming spark of darkness, and where the flame of entropy has fallen, sparks will yet follow and bare the beast to light.'"

Darkness. Or void. Negation of reality. All three meanings of differing grimness in that single glyph which... Hm, he recognised that glyph, in fact. Just angled a little different, today it simply meant 'end'. The other meanings lay in two different glyphs.

He could also tell this segment had, at the beginning of it, been taken from a larger text, as the segment at least _seemed_ to start in the middle of a sentence.

"All right. I've clearly been... er, led around... to see all these _pieces_ , but what's the _pattern_?" Jetfire could admit to being frustrated, especially as he could recognise that there _was_ a pattern, but well. 

The pattern itself eluded him.

"That remains to be seen."

Jetfire started, staring as the computer suddenly lit up in full activity and a hard-light projection appeared on the floor in front of him, the figure similar but different to the cultists in the hall behind them.

"... You let me in." It was a statement, not a question, because it made sense. Jetfire let out the vent of hot waste air he'd been holding and straightened up as the projection nodded.

"I did. You took the most important choices, however."

Which meant that he could probably have ended up missing the gallery completely. Jetfire wasn't sure if he'd have preferred that, or if it was a good thing he'd seen what he did. He'd probably have ended up in this room at the end either way, however.

"And you are..?" He had more questions than that one, of course, but he had to start _somewhere_ , and while the most simple explanation would be a very advanced A.I, perhaps the caretaker of the temple, Jetfire... thought that wasn't it.

Mostly because he thought he recognised the look of the projection, now that it was "complete" and not in the disparate pieces the cultists wore.

"I am High Circuitmaster Boltax."

"But... er, the High Circuitmaster has been... ah, offline for thousands of vorns," said Jetfire, optics narrowing as the projection merely nodded in agreement.

"Indeed I have. But my death, like many other things, was more than it first appeared."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, two of the three recognisable canon quotes from the Covenant of Primus have been repurposed for the fic, while the third hasn't.


	3. The Mainframe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jetfire discusses a few things with the temple hologram.

Eyeing the hard light hologram who claimed to be Boltax, the High Circuitmaster of the destroyed Temple of Knowledge in Altihex, Jetfire folded his arms over his chestplates and considered the possibility that the hologram was what it claimed to be. A saved copy of Boltax's memories and personality matrix? 

Possibly, since only a prolonged conversation even with someone who'd known him personally, would tease out the lack and gaps between the real and the fake, even with a strong A.I backing the memories and personality matrix up.

On the other hand, the hologram - or rather, the computer up against the wall, since that was probably where the A.I was housed, wouldn't necessarily need to actually be Boltax in any conceivable way. Making holograms look like a particular individual wasn't _difficult_ after all, and just because the A.I believed or presented itself as Boltax didn't mean that it _was_.

"Care to _elaborate_ , because while I have several theories of varying possibility and credibility, I wouldn't mind to be... ah, informed as to what your explanation is. And is Starscream _safe_ out there?" nodding towards the window, Jetfire was perfectly ready to do something drastic if there was some indication the Seeker wouldn't be safe in the hall beyond the window.

Not that he was sure what he would do, or how, because he still had no weapons. And would doubtfully be able to use them, or use them well even if he did have some. Starscream had tried to teach him how to shoot a regular small hand blaster which was all well and good. He'd insisted on pure manual learning, though, instead of picking up the basics from a program which was decidedly hampering things.

It wasn't so much Jetfire being unable to hit a target, because he was in fact rather good at that, but getting to the point of shooting at all. Starscream still insisted on continuing the training attempts even while muttering insults about Urbane Class individuals' ability to defend themselves. 

Jetfire wondered when he'd give up.

"Quite. They aren't about to strip him to his component parts and only worship the spark, I promise you. They're interested in the whole vessel," said the projection of might-be-Boltax calmly, hands tented in front of his faceplates, but that reassurance didn't much feel like one, and Jetfire shifted on his thrusters, casting a glance towards the one-way mirror window.

It just felt a bit _too specific_ , but at the same time it was doubtful the A.I would say that as a roundabout way of saying this was happening right now, or would happen soon enough that Jetfire couldn't stay in this room and throw a few questions out for a bit. 

Not that he actually should stay since he was, after all, still leaving Starscream out there in the amphitheatre...

All the things he'd seen so far suggested he ought to stay and try to find more things out, though. Sooner or later, it'd all make sense, wouldn't it?

... Hopefully.

"As for your request for an explanation..." The smooth, domed helmet was inclined, and the index-fingers of the tented hands briefly touched to the hologram's lips. "There are many ways for a spark to interact with the world if one knows how. A standard frame is merely one of them, and by the time of the attack to the Temple, I had long since abandoned the frame that I still used for primary interaction with the visitors to the Temple."

Jetfire's optics strayed to the computer in front of him, and behind the hologram, though the projection made no indication either way. It made sense, though... except.

"The Temple was completely destroyed, down to the Underbase chambers underground. Any computer in there would have been reduced to scrap like the rest." Jetfire pointed out, frowning. 

The destruction of the Temple of Knowledge had been a loss that he hadn't understood at the time, barely out of the Matrix Ignition Chambers in Nova Cronum like he'd been. Though to be honest, he still didn't understand it; the Temple of Knowledge had basically been a ceremonial burial ground, a repository for the spark chambers and processors of deactivated cybertronians.

These were stored in a collection of chambers underneath the temple complex until such a time they were considered "clean" of any possible trace of the former possessor's spark and memories, and first then removed to be reused as fit. After the destruction of the temple, another location, now in Iacon, had been set up.

It was, after all, merely a symbol, a way to give pause and a chance for grieving, somewhere physical to go if you needed it. That in addition to making sure those most _personal_ parts of a cybertronian frame carried no trace of the previous owner when they might be reused for someone else , both because the thought was unsettling for almost everybody and more or less anyone would agree it would be rather disrespectful otherwise.

"While my actual former frame resided in the Temple, yes, that was as much of me that was present when the dissidents expressed their dissatisfaction with the Council's restrictions regarding the forbidden areas. This temple isn't the only one I'm overseeing either." The projection shrugged, expression as bland as its voice, and Jetfire frowned, feeling like he was being fed something here.

Not the quotes inside the temple he was rather sure, even if he'd partly led around, partly given the chance to choose to see them... Though there was the one in this very room as well, but no. Given the segment over the entrance which had been repeated inside the hall Starscream was in presently...

"Thirteen of them?" He couldn't keep the groan out of his voice and he ended up rubbing a hand over his mouth as the possible projection of Boltax chuckled. "Shouldn't there just be _twelve_ if the Covenant is to be believed and what does _Starscream_ have to do with this?"

The hologram tilted its helm up to look Jetfire in the faceplates, spreading its arms wide in as much a shrug as a gesture to indicate their surroundings.

"There's a core of truth to nearly everything, but that is neither here nor there. The existence of a traitor among the First Thirteen is not relevant - the functions they guided and personified are far more so, as well as the positions they held in creation."

Staring down at the projection, Jetfire wanted to say quite a few things. 

While there must have been those that were first among their species, regardless of whether some force by the name of Primus had created them or the first emergent spark energies had reacted with loose metal and energon on Cybertron to create simple frames didn't matter here. Neither did the nonsense implications of 'necessary functions' or whatever, and though he had to push down the part that wanted to _argue_ , he brought up that which was _important_ here.

"Starscream? They believe _Starscream_ is somehow... connected to one of these... er, First, one of these _functions_?" Incredulity shaded Jetfire's voice into a buzzing undertone, layered around denial. He didn't want to deal with this.

What he wanted to do - the only thing he'd wanted to do and still wanted to, was to get Starscream out of here, since Starscream himself apparently couldn't. It took a moment to bring equilibrium back, but it came. He couldn't let his emotions get the better of him.

The only thing that made Jetfire not continue further to dispute the point was the fact that the hologram of Boltax suddenly looked decidedly... uncertain. A twist to the metal between the optics and an angling of his mouth as he interlaced his hands and rested them in front of him.

"Perhaps. Possibly. I have... My ability to guide the actions of the Thirteen Temples have been diminished since before the destruction of the Temple of Knowledge." said with the frown on the hard light hologram's faceplates deepening, Boltax turning around to look up at the computer as he paused momentarily. 

Jetfire wondered why the projection was kept at what probably have been Boltax's height when he'd had a frame. A hologram wasn't restricted in all things to the exact parameters of a particular frame, even when imitating someone.

"There's a shadow over everything, and either my disciples don't listen, or what I've said seems to be twisted somehow. They said afterwards it was necessary to shake the Council, that there was impurity there. I cannot see it, and in the end it didn't do much except create another forbidden zone."

That was true enough; the area around the Temple of Knowledge was nowadays a wild, forbidden wasteland, the ruins of the temple complex still standing at its center. Before the attack, certain areas around the temple, seeming to creep inwards towards it and outwards towards each other, had been continually locked down and marked as forbidden by the Council of Ancients as well. 

Jetfire wasn't sure, but he thought that creeping lock-down and spreading of the forbidden zones were what the dissidents that had levelled the temple had wanted to protest, as Boltax had indicated, for as much good _that_ had done. 

Especially as Sentinel Prime had never opposed any of the areas that were locked down being so. And that, in turn made resentment bubble in some corners of society, like those dissidents which had blown up the Temple of Knowledge, though the Prime kept the peace deftly otherwise. He was personable, reasonable and a consummate diplomat, with a voice that carried words most _wanted_ to listen to, or could be convinced to listen to.

"They were from here, then?"

"No, not _this_ temple." Boltax shook his helm, then continued before Jetfire could intercede. "Like I was saying, there's been... difficulties. Influences of a kind I can't account for. Starscream is one of the few who matches a certain set of parameters, however." Another slow shake of the rounded, simple dome-shaped helm as the projection started to slowly pace, ambling from one side of the room to the other.

"There's only a few who are pure, and despite the time not being right... despite the fact that they know certain things must happen, which means interference might change things, when Starscream ended up here on the moon, I couldn't make them listen to reason and wait."

This was... 

Scrubbing a hand down his faceplates, Jetfire had to wrestle with the few personal tenets he kept to. Keeping an open mind was exceedingly hard in the face of illogical things like bare faith and talk of predestination, or however he was supposed to understand what was being said. And while Boltax's explanations definitely kept to a repeating theme and at least the explanation of how he might still be alive was... possible, Jetfire wasn't sure this was enough of a repeatable phenomenon to lend the words said any weight.

Well, one thing was clear; the cultists - of this temple or not - obviously believed whatever faith they kept enough to consistently act in ways that they thought would give them what they wanted. The destruction of the Temple of Knowledge, kidnapping Starscream because he was... was... What, a spark that resonated with whatever trumped-up parameters they used to tell connection between one of their thirteen mythical progenitors and an individual living today?

That was... Well, the theory was somewhat sound. Certain lineages could be created if a patron was present when the Prime sparked a protoform, as there were some recordable strains of preferences for spark-pulse and the organisation of cyberstatic energy that could be proven to be connected to a patron being present, even similar or the same altmodes or colours. Called Imprinting, usually only nobles were given to use as it restricted the natural variability of sparks and thus wasn't... preferable, or optimal really.

Folding his arms over his chestplates again, nosecone scraping against the bottom of the tailfin array on his other arm, Jetfire considered it. Say these cultists, then, had a set of parameters partitioned up on thirteen sources. It didn't matter if those parameters came from actual existing individuals, the cultists merely needed to _believe_ they did... and then said parameters could, with varying accuracy, match up to sparks being ignited later.

It was... possible, and would at least explain why the cultists were doing what they were doing, regardless of any _truth_ to the belief behind their actions.

"All right. That's what they believe and why they did it..." Jetfire trailed off, shifting on his thrusters as he was once again caught by the feeling of time slipping away, and while he should probably skip immediately to asking if Boltax was willing to help him get Starscream out, there was just _one_ piece left.

It niggled, lodged among more relevant and higher priority thoughts like errant code, calling attention to itself simply due to how obviously in the wrong place it was. Curiosity and annoyance just wouldn't let go.

"And what about the quotes?" Jetfire paused, optics narrowing, and the projection waited, seemingly willing to wait for whatever thought Jetfire was working up to... or whatever he was _expecting_ to be said. "... and the glyphs. Some of them looked... odd."

"Compared to what you might be used to, yes," said Boltax, dipping his helm in a nod, and then the hologram finally stopped in its pacing, facing Jetfire once more, hands tented in front of the faceplates, helm tilted up at the air guardian.

"You already noticed there was a pattern. It's up to you to decipher it, unlock it... order it among the greater pattern, which might not yet be." The hard light projection smiled, a bland, mirror-like expression for all that it might have contained.

Jetfire's engine revved, a rattling cough in the otherwise silent room and that startled him right out of any aggravation as he looked around sharply. No one came, either to attempt to peer into the window, or storming into the room. When he turned back to the hologram of Boltax, it wore a patient, smooth expression that still said nothing, flat, empty golden optics still angled up to look the air guardian in the faceplates.

"As for the glyphs... they're part of the same. Angles. Geometry and equations which have a particular place. All won't be able to see it, not even those who are similar to you. It all depends on how you apply yourself." The projection smiled again, a thin, yet soft flicker in its matter. "All angles have a place, but only some can open up, or interpret, the greater pattern, and a flexible key can fit in more locks."

This was going _nowhere_. Jetfire's wings twitched, armour-plates shifted in an agitated scrape of tight-loose-tight and as he shook his helm, his optics grazed the glyphs above the computer again. The short bit 'flame of entropy has fallen' jumped out at him, seemed to briefly burn with physical flame that hurt his optics but that was obviously just a trick of the light.

Shaking his helm, Jetfire turned sharply around. Keeping his thrusters soft on the floor, he cautiously walked up to the window, looking out. He couldn't say if there was any difference in the crowd from before compared to now, but this room was located level with the uppermost terrace of the amphitheatre hall compared with the gallery which had overlooked it from floors above.

"How do I get him out of here?" Jetfire's voice was soft as he looked over the helms of the gathered cultists, and it was obvious they were talking... chanting, perhaps, or singing, but not a sound could be heard in here. Below them all, like a bright beacon, was Starscream. 

It was time to start asking not just the right questions, but the questions that _mattered_.

"There are two possibilities." 

Jetfire turned away from the window, which was both hard and easy, and slowly walked back towards the computer and the hologram. It didn't take many steps even with going slow, however. He was a little taller than Starscream after all, and both of them were taller than the average cybertronian with a ground-vehicle altmode.

"The most straightforward, which would also be slightly more dangerous because you might not reach him, would be entering the Hall of the Thirteenth and reach Starscream physically, removing the device which is keeping him... in place, docile. Open to suggestion--"

"He's being mind-controlled?" Jetfire asked sharply, even if he'd suspected it. That or some sort of virus-drug, hard to tell. But either way, if Starscream was in his _complete_ right mind, being adored over or no wouldn't keep him peacefully on that throne.

Well. Maybe. But the indications so far favoured 'not of his own choice' instead of 'had been talked into it by generous fluffing of his ego'.

"Straightforward mind-control makes it harder to keep an individual in place for a prolonged or indefinite length of time." The projection shrugged, flatly dismissive over the whole thing and Jetfire just took the moment to pause, optics narrowing in an equally flat, unamused stare. The hologram looked up, the upper edge of an optic quirking, apparently seeing _something_ there that he approved of if the small smile was anything to go by. Jetfire kept from squirming by tightening the stare.

"By applying pressure on and appealing to certain points and traits in an individual, especially if one already has knowledge of them, _suggesting_ to instead of outright _dominating_ the mind, makes success easier and more guaranteed. No, he's not being mind-controlled or having his processor flushed or repressed," said Boltax, shaking his helm. "He is, however, under the influence of a device which uses the known particularities that belongs to the sparks which show affinity to the parameters we keep an optic out for. Uses them, and makes sure to _play to them_. It keeps anyone under the control of it willing to stay, depending on how susceptible to suggestion or, indeed, mind-control they are."

The projection's arms were spread, a ripple travelling through the whole hard-light hologram's frame as it looked up at Jetfire once more.

"You can, as pointed out, go out there and simply take it off." A pause as Boltax held up a hand, index finger the only one extended. "The other could be less of a risk, as you wouldn't immediately need to expose yourself and the element of surprise would be on your side for longer."

"And that would be?" His optics strayed to the side, but Jetfire didn't turn far enough to be able to look at the window, or out of it. 

Later. 

Soon. 

Why did he feel like time was running out?

"Spark-diving."

Turning back sharply, optics widening and going bright - Jetfire wasn't sure whether it was from shock or an embarrassed sense of 'he doesn't know, does he'.

"But that..."

"Requires the two to be somewhat attuned, yes." The projection gave Jetfire a dry, arched stare, seeing through the surface concern and going deeper down - or at least it seemed that way. Jetfire shifted on his thrusters, feeling the rounded rims digging into the metal floor beneath his feet.

Spark-diving meant a sort of mental communication a lot more direct than even the most sophisticated hard-line couldn't imitate. It wasn't spark interfacing since it lacked the energy exchange, but it was perfectly possible to spark-dive while spark 'facing, as long as you knew what you were doing. The necessity of some basic attuning, closeness... not necessarily a relationship as close as sparks being synchronised or being bonded but still closer than just new friends, was so that each could understand and interact with the other's mental constructs of themselves and not just subsume the other completely.

Politeness, possibly, but it assured that both would come out of it unharmed. Spark interfacing was more intuitive, required less _thought_ than an intentional and pure spark-dive did.

"... And you'd recommend this over the other, because?" Jetfire didn't just of course mean that he'd just been outed as... caring, a lot, or even keeping the element of surprise for longer. There must be some other reason. The projection nodded, walking back to the computer and pressing a few buttons.

"Assisting Starscream to get out of the device's control under his own power by bolstering him from within will assure less side-effects, less scrambled memories from having been under its influence. There won't be any lasting harm by you going down there and simply taking it off, but he will have to deal with trying to defragment his memories for longer and the other attendant side-effects to memories not properly logged, as well as having had his processor under the influence of a master device." A cable was pulled out, its jack a complicated mesh between insets and parts poking out, the central one longer than the others.

Jetfire walked up beside the computer, taking the cable when it was offered, trailing a finger around the jack's prongs carefully.

"Anything else?" It didn't seem right to go spark-diving without Starscream's say-so, but on the other hand, he hadn't agreed to being in this temple either, and if the strain of having that... thing on his helm could be lessened, if it could be taken off with him simply assisting Starscream, that seemed... right. "And how can I even go spark-diving from _here_ , regardless of the equipment being available here?"

"The device is currently quite firmly connected to Starscream, and this computer is connected to that. We'll use that as a springboard. Like I said, the device is using parts of Starscream's personality traits and influencing them on a basic level." Boltax paused, tapping something else on the computer. "I'll give you a breem. If it takes longer, you're not going to be able to get him free that way; it all somewhat depends on how susceptible he is to suggestion... and the longer that device is on, the harder it will be to free him."

Jetfire's helm snapped up from looking at the cable and turned to Boltax. The projection looked quite serious, and Jetfire didn't disbelieve him.

Just one point left.

"Why are you assisting me?"

"I believe we already touched upon that, but, simply put; being able to read the Covenant of Primus doesn't necessarily lend understanding. I can interpret some things, others remain obscure. I have no idea who needs to be where, or how. Thus, no one can be removed from their current places by outside action."

That... Jetfire huffed, shook his helm and bared the port in his side that was located underneath his chestplates and would allow a connection to be established thanks to the specialised jack, without having to bare his spark chamber.

This wasn't particularly _safe_. Anything could happen in a breem. Boltax - if it was him - could have the room flooded with cultists, his "disciples", the moment Jetfire's attention was elsewhere. But it wasn't as if he had a lot of weapons, and in a way this was one of the few he did have.

With a static sigh, Jetfire pushed the jack in place.


	4. The Incarnate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jetfire tries to get Starsream to take that hideous crown off, though the discussion doesn't go exactly as planned. And then there's escape.

There was no sudden switch from 'reality' to 'non-reality' so to speak, even if spark-diving was rather about reality on a different level. 

Far more personal than the physical world could be, it was a curious thing that could easily be mistrusted as the results of scrambling your processor or something. There were reports and research on the energy output and the arrangement of spark energy when spark-diving was initiated however, which was different from other known energy patterns, similar but different to spark interfacing, and the spark withdrew to the spark chamber automatically when the process was set in motion.

At some point, dealing with something as hard to define as the spark, where research couldn't be done deeply or invasive enough and yet respect the individual... or keep them safe, one would simply have to respect that some things would remain... fuzzy knowledge.

The whole thing started with all sensors that picked up sensory information from the outside were turned off, leaving Jetfire in the humming not-silence of his own frame. The workings of his fuel-system, shifting pistons answering to the input of gyroscopes to keep him balanced as he'd dropped out of outside awareness standing up. Which might not have been the most thought-through decision ever, then there was the pressure of exchange of hot and cool air as his vents worked...

And a sensation like a pressure-itch somewhere to the diagonal-left to and below his spark chamber, where the port he'd plugged the cable into was located, not quite but almost touching the humming _presence_ that was his spark/self. The most annoying thing being he couldn't scratch that itch, because it was too deep and inside and he couldn't _move_ anyway, but then he _reached_ and the pieces connected.

His perspective changed from sensory-less experience of his frame to _down and in_ , the faint humming as much a sound as a pressure.

Then everything expanded outwards again, into bright angles of light and darkness which were confusing and too _open_ , and which strained in a direction, towards a location that he instinctively _knew_ wasn't Starscream, but something... somebody else, bright and--- 

Awareness flickered closer towards the sound-feeling and Jetfire knew if he gave in, he'd have to attempt to re-establish the connection again as he'd be tossed out of the shifted perspective and back into his frame. 

Things narrowed and then expanded once again, weightless, formless, infinity at his hands in all colours but it somehow made more sense than the previous thing had. 

He simply knew what it was. The mathematics of the universe, the equation by which things _existed_ but this wouldn't help him _now_. There was no way to get anywhere if he let _this_ become the mental structure from which to try and reach Starscream---

He'd barely thought that when everything _solidified_ , became small and sharp and full of humming life. 

Cybertron. 

Looking around, Jetfire smiled a little. Not just Cybertron, but the building behind him was the Matrix Ignition Chambers in Nova Cronum. Faintly, behind the low, six-sided interconnected domes that created a single building, the square, practical buildings of Nova Cronum itself could be guessed at, interspersed with the twisting towers and walkways in-between that connected the towers and buildings both. Most were surprised at the dichotomy.

Jetfire had to resist the urge to turn around and go into the building behind him. He was here for a _reason_ , and he was wasting time. Not that he was sure how much time had passed already. 

It could be half a breem, it could be barely a few astroseconds.

Taking half a step forward and _thinking_ about Starscream was enough to establish the connection, and Jetfire stopped, staring. Wasn't sure whether to groan, laugh or just be exasperated, and felt himself vibrate with all three at once.

Rather satisfying, actually.

Because what he was looking at was a piece of Vos, and a vosian tower he was rather sure had never existed in reality with the curving width and height of it. Each seam between the shining white plates that made up the tower neatly lined with energon crystals or more mundane but certainly still valuable jewels.

The effect was, actually, rather tastefully understated - surprisingly so, given whose mental construct, unconscious/intuitive or not, that it was.

He waited for a moment, and yet uncertain what, precisely, he was waiting for. 

Starscream wouldn't be coming out to meet him in the middle as he understood things were usually done, at least the first time. Acclimatisation, so to speak. With a shake of his helm, Jetfire started to walk, wondering if the device that Starscream had on his helm would change the procedure of this situation...

The distance between where Jetfire had started and his goal had looked far away enough, but it didn't take him more than a few steps to end up standing at the bottom of the tower, a pair of impressive doors set into the wall with flames wreathed over them. Frowning at the flames, Jetfire was _rather_ sure that wasn't something Starscream would've put there, so how to get in---

Wait.

This was a vosian tower. Vos was a city nearly to exclusion dominated by fliers, and especially Seekers. The towers of Vos weren't entered from the _ground level_. 

He didn't really have flight systems here, in this... whatever to call it, but tilting his helm back to look up at the underside of the balcony that cast a shadow over the ground, forbiddingly far up along the tower's side, Jetfire flexed his wings---

And found himself standing on the balcony, facing an open doorway flanked by... Ah. Statues. Of Starscream. Well, that was a fair bit closer to what he'd been expecting compared to the muted elegance of the tower. Walking carefully inside, it seemed the false door at the bottom had been the only obstacle... for now, at least.

Not sure where he needed to go, Jetfire simply followed the corridor beyond the entrance, resisting the doors or branching corridors. He wasn't here to explore whatever this unconscious mental structure of Starscream's mind, his spark, looked like.

Not without Starscream present beside him, at least.

It did make him wonder, again, what his own looked like, but compared to a two-way spark-dive, where equipment plus the connection helped both to get to the state needed, doing it on your own... required more control. It wasn't impossible, no, but most couldn't reach the level needed to go that deep on their own. Masters of Circuit-Su were claimed to be able to, and more than that, to forego the mental structure and wander among the literal layers of their sparks, their awareness of self seeing things slightly slanted to be able to do that, affecting things directly...

However it was with that, Jetfire had other things to deal with.

Like the giant hall he'd just entered, the corridor he'd been following ending at a balcony that stretched nearly fully from one side of the room to the other. Looking down from the railing, the floor was made of skyglass - or rather, appeared to be, anyway. The light that fell in from the windows set into the wall at the far right played over the alloy, the exacting impurities creating what appeared to be clouds of differing gases 'moving' across the floor.

Jetfire was amused to realise that whatever else, the weapons he'd glimpsed around the top of the tower, the skyglass floor here hinted at the other part of Starscream. Because since the skyglass wasn't _real_ , it was far more 'real' than actual skyglass could ever be, the 'clouds' clearly seemed to be layered above or below each other as was correct for the given gas' properties, as carefully rendered as if it'd had been the real sky.

"Jetfire, stop staring and get _down_ here. I know it's impressive, but you gaping is rather _unbecoming_." Starscream's sneer cut through his contemplation and he'd not done more than look up before he found himself standing in front of Starscream, on the floor on the opposite end of the hall from the balcony.

"Merely giving attention where it's due," said Jetfire, voice softer than he'd meant as he looked Starscream over. He looked as he always did, and unharmed despite the fact that the device was showing its presence here as well. Which was logical, given what Boltax had said, but it was still unsettling. 

The crown wasn't rendered the same as in reality, instead flames in black and orange, faint and barely-there, wreathed Starscream's helm. They cast no shadows, but still seemed to have a presence that just didn't _belong_ in here.

"You should do that more often, you know," sniffed Starscream, looking away, arms crossed over his cockpit. While it hadn't been clear from where Jetfire had been standing, the slightly raised podium Starscream stood on and which he stood in front of was not as pompously self-important as the rest.

"If I did that, we'd _never_ get anything done." Jetfire shook his helm, folding his own arms over his chestplates as he glanced around the platform. Compared to the bright, glowing white of the rest, the platform was made in a more basic alloy. It was the most widely used, such that would turn deeply burnished gold in the sunlight that washed over Cybertron during the day, and shift to cooler grey-blue, silver and faintly reflective during the night. It was more like Centurion than Vos.

The sunken recharge berth set into the podium was a curious meld between a standard protoform tank and the simple sort of recharge berth that required very little extra material; free-standing, off-the-floor ones took more resources. Centurion, being rather simple, if yet a sprawling city in the Neutral Territories more concentrated on the defense of the Territories than trade, usually only had recharge berths set into the floor.

"And talking of getting things done, Starscream, you need to get rid of that." He nodded to the wreath of flames, which he _hoped_ didn't look any more solid than it had before. Surely that was just an illusion from not paying attention to it.

"I _know_ , thank you. The fact that these _glitching half-formed protoforms_ got the better of me..." Starscream sneered again, turning back to Jetfire with his dark faceplates twisted into a scowl. He made no move to touch the flames around his helm, however, even if Jetfire was suddenly rather sure that was all it'd take.

If Starscream had been completely under its sway, he'd probably have gotten an uncomprehending look at his words, so it was pleasant to see that _in here_ Starscream was aware of the issue. 

But if he was, why hadn't he _done something_... 

"But the actual one fits me very well, and they _are_ saying rather pleasant things..." Starscream tapped a finger against his chinguard, and Jetfire suppressed a groan. "Find out a way to let me keep it but destroy this disgusting _influence_ , Jetfire." 

Translated: 'Because I can't, since I don't actually _want to_ take the actual thing off. I like it'.

"Starscream, it doesn't _work that way_. Fitting you or not, you need to take it off if you don't want them to keep you." He should have - and probably he had, in some way - expected this. 

The issue wasn't only, or at all, that Starscream was so susceptible to mind-control or suggestion that he couldn't shake off the suggestive powers of the device. But rather, since it was appealing to his ego and sense of self-importance and brilliance (and Starscream _wasn't_ stupid), it kept its grip simply because Starscream didn't want to take it off, and thus he _couldn't_ , even if he was snarling to high heaven about the cultists controlling him.

Starscream glared at him, optics hard, brittle rubies that glowed with a fire deeper than just normal optic-light. A flare of unbending pride and ambition and the pleasure of having it _acknowledged_. 

Jetfire realised he was going about this the wrong way.

Logic wouldn't sway Starscream, not now, not with Starscream already aware of it and dismissing it even as said realisation and logic fought with the rest... and was losing. He opened his mouth, but Starscream got there first.

"Well, if _you_ don't want to, I'll just do it myself. You just don't like the look of it." Starscream stared at him, smugness radiating outwards, the flames around his helm flaring, and Jetfire barely kept from dragging a hand down his faceplates. 

Patience. 

"Which I knew you wouldn't, but it just means that if you're not going to do what I want, I'll just have to find another use for you. I suppose it was nice of you to go through the trouble of coming here, though."

"Starscream..." He needed to cut this off _now_ , but Starscream seemed to be able to act just a little faster, move a bit more smoothly... and well, since they were closest to Starscream's self, that made sense.

"No, Jetfire. Be quiet and _kneel_."

And then he found himself doing just that, his surprise not just making his (or the representation of them) optics flicker, but his very _self_ vibrating with it.

"You look good like this. Off-balance." Starscream was being _very_ honest here, and if Jetfire didn't feel like it was partly his fault, he'd be angrier. As it was, Jetfire frowned, keeping quiet not because he _had to_ no matter what Starscream had ordered, but in an attempt at figuring out what he needed to do.

The hand on his jaw was surprisingly light, urging him to tilt his helm back rather than making him do so, and he let it.

The flames were more solid.

Starscream was going to end up _giving over_ control this way, if this continued. The need to _do something_ twisted through him, but he couldn't do anything in here that wasn't convincing Starscream to do it... 

A blue finger tapped the tip of his nasal ridge and the thumb pressed more firmly against his chinguard, _almost_ stroking.

Focusing on Starscream's face revealed a slight frown hiding in the clear-cut, sharp lines.

"You look better when you're not _hiding_ behind that ridiculous thing, you know."

What was... glancing upwards as well as he could, Jetfire still got an idea of what Starscream meant; while everything else in his frame looked the same, his helm, which ought to have had a flipped-back mask/visor resting above the top... didn't. The design of the upper part of his helm seemed to be completely different somehow.

With that realisation came a conflicting flare that made the whole of him simply... flicker, the only stable point where Starscream was gripping. He wasn't particularly shy, either about his opinions, knowledge or the fact that he was good at what he did, but at the same time there were things he wasn't sure about which... well, it was unreasonable that he found that embarrassing, but he did, and that was why...

"If you stopped hiding behind that useless piece of metal the second something comes up that throws you maybe you would realise I'm right." 

As if Starscream was _always_ right. The situation crystallised again, though, since even with Starscream - maybe - being right, that wasn't why they were here.

"Starscream... while I appreciate your input, I'm not the important thing here---" Jetfire's optics widened slightly as Starscream's grip on his jaw suddenly tightened and he leaned forward, optics like harshly angled diamonds.

"If you don't stop that I'm going to have the foolish zealots out there chain you upside down until you realise what you're saying." Starscream's voice was electricity over his frame and he had to grit his teeth. So to speak. This was going too far, the simpleness of where he currently was attractive or not. Starscream couldn't be allowed the control he right now had over the situation, otherwise... 

Otherwise Jetfire wasn't sure where this would be going. He needed some time. Time to think, time to formulate better lines to be drawn. At least he was only going to be in here for a breem. 

How much time was left, anyway?

"Starscream, _stop that_. That's not what I meant." He looked up, ignoring the tightening grip on his jaw to glare Starscream full in the faceplates. "No matter what you think of the look of it, if _you leave it on_ , you _know_ it's going to control you to some point. Do you _want_ that?"

Time to stop talking logic and appeal to Starscream's unbending need to be in control of his own actions, unimpeded by anyone else to pursue his desires. That was, after all, why Starscream was where he was currently. Not literally with the crown on his helm, sitting on a throne in a cultist temple, or even in here at his core, having a discussion.

Rather it was about his going from Centurion to Vos to the Cybertronian Aerospace Vanguard to the Academy at Altihex.

Starscream froze, the edges of his frame briefly seeming to turn soft, indistinct. The flames around his helm flickered, but while they didn't become fainter or disappear, at least they didn't become more solid.

"... Fine." Frustration laced the sneer as Starscream refocused again, became clear, and bent down over Jetfire, his thumb now resting against Jetfire's lips, tracing the outline of them as he leaned their helms together. "No, I don't want that, you're... right." The words were muttered almost against Jetfire's mouth, only Starscream's thumb in the way. His tone and words were warm, bright friction and charge that tasted of reluctant acquiescence.

It was strange how their language, not rendered in glyphs in this state, verbal or written, seemed interlaced with the meaning the modifiers gave them anyway, translated into more simple, straightforward sensation.

Or maybe that was just how it worked for them.

"So take it off when you get out of here. That throne isn't my style at all, anyway."

Jetfire shifted, but didn't break away or stand up. Not yet. Despite Starscream's annoyance at having had to give in to the appeal, Jetfire could feel the smile even with the thumb between their mouths. Starscream fairly hummed with it. Just because he hadn't moved without being told he could.

"I'd rather you do it _yourself_ , Starscream. Enough has been done here without your say-so, even if you've told me to do it." He just didn't like it, none of it. Starscream _laughed_ , both hands suddenly framing Jetfire's face and there was barely a vent's worth of air separating them.

"You're too soft for this. Get out of here, you idiot. Your time's up, anyway."

Starscream _pushed_ him then, and everything sort of _flickered_ or hummed, it was hard to tell, splintered into glowing layers and then darkness.

But not silence, and Jetfire realised he was listening to the workings of his frame again, and then the silence of the room beyond, the scrape of his thrusters against the floor as he shifted his weight. He turned his optics on and shook his helm at Boltax's look, his own gaze briefly landing on the cable in the hard light projection's hands.

"He's aware of the control but... er..." Trailing off, Jetfire glanced at the one-way mirror window and shrugged. How to phrase it? 

"That's usually the downfall of those who are pure enough the device would have an effect," Boltax simply nodded as he put the cable back into the computer, the panel hiding it snapping closed after it was in. Apparently he didn't need to find a way to phrase it as Boltax clearly knew something of what he'd meant, and instead Jetfire ended up staring, helm tilted.

"It only affects those that... er, matches the parameters you said were looked for?" It made sense, he supposed, and gave into the urge to let a faint static sigh out.

"Indeed. What are you going to do now?" The golden hologram looked up at Jetfire, who, in turn, walked over to the window. The service, or whatever it was, seemed to either be winding down or they were preparing for a change as some were leaving the amphitheatre.

Some, but not nearly enough to matter.

"... I will have to attempt to simply burst in there. There aren't many options left. I assume Starscream being aware in _some_ way will mean he's going to come back to himself faster than otherwise." Scrubbing a hand down his faceplates, Jetfire looked into the amphitheatre behind the window again.

There were a few entrances/exits, but all of them would lead into the temple itself. There didn't seem to be any easy way out otherwise, and he doubted Starscream's arm cannons could break through the roof.

"But getting _out_ will be the issue after that." Jetfire turned back to the projection, who waved a hand at the door opposite to the one Jetfire had come in this room through.

"I'll provide an exit, and make sure my disciples can't follow. Take the door here, follow the corridor and the first turn left. The doors will open when you get close."

"Thank you." Jetfire murmured, wondering about the sharp look the projection suddenly had, and ended up pausing at the door as Boltax spoke for a last time.

"If I thought it would be suitable and the best course of action at all, I'd have assisted in keeping him here." 

Jetfire turned around at the same time as the hard light hologram flickered out and the computer went back to idle. Eyeing it, Jetfire set his jaw and left the room. There was nothing else to do. It wasn't hard at all to find the first turn left, and Jetfire paused there, looking down the short corridor to the double doors on the other end.

He'd never felt a want, or even a _need_ for a weapon. Partly because it wasn't something that came easily to him, and partly, the few times armed defense had been necessary on the missions he had Starscream had done away from Cybertron, _Starscream_ had handled that.

... Especially the once or twice when all of it was Starscream's fault.

Right now, though, he felt that the weight, the presence of a weapon would be helpful, even if he didn't need to, or couldn't, fire it. 

Nothing for it. 

Releasing the vent of waste air he'd been holding, Jetfire let his flight systems roar into life and more or less threw himself down the corridor, which luckily was large enough to allow for something like this. 

The doors slid open as he barrelled down the corridor, _nearly_ not fast enough and wouldn't _that_ have been unimpressive? Flying helmfirst into the opening doors and whacking himself offline?

Starscream would have laughed himself into stasis lock if he'd managed that.

There was a flailing, static-laced communal gasp as he burst into the amphitheatre, automatically going _up_ first instead of aiming directly down. He hovered for a brief moment up at the top of the domed ceiling, and then descended, ignoring the shouts of the cultists who either tried to run down towards the bottom of the amphitheatre, or leave the hall.

He turned himself feet first with barely a frame-length to spare, rocking the floor as he landed right beside the throne and sending up clouds of unsettled metal filings from wear that cleaning couldn't easily catch.

"How _dare_ you intrude! DON'T TOUCH THE THIRTEENTH INCARNATE!" the black-robed officiator who'd held the floor during the cult's little gathering yelled and got to his feet as Jetfire reached for Starscream. His hand closed around the largest tine in the crown, the one facing forward, and when he yanked, it came off... surprisingly, shockingly easily.

The leader slammed into Jetfire right as he tossed the device into the ground, and even as he staggered by the unexpected weight, his lit thruster still hit most of the crown, the slimmer tines melting and the central band warping.

It was surprisingly sturdy.

"You'll _pay_ for that!" 

And Jetfire didn't disbelieve the mech, for all that he lacked an altmode and was only slightly taller than half Jetfire's height. He was heavier than he looked, the protoform-like plain armour obviously giving more weight than actual protoform armour, and the glare in the blue optics was... unsettling.

"No, he won't. Step away or---"

::Let's not kill anyone, Starscream.:: Jetfire interceded quickly, meeting the glare Starscream threw him over the cultist's helm with an even stare of his own.

::Fine. You're _much too soft_ for this, you hopeless idiot!::

The similarity to what Starscream had said before paused Jetfire and he wondered how much of that Starscream _remembered_ , but at least all the Seeker did was storm up and kick the cultist away. And then nearly crashed into Jetfire, clutching his face and helm.

... He _had_ thought Starscream's voice had sounded rather fuzzy over their frequency. Unfocused. He probably had a processor-ache like one of the moon's trying to fit inside his cranial space.

"Let's go." Trapping Starscream against him, which also made sure to trap the flailing arm and charged arm cannon he'd been vaguely waving as he weaved unsteadily on his feet at the Disciples of Boltax as they gathered around their leader and helped him to his feet.

" _How_ , genius?" Starscream snarled, his voice laced with static that he was visibly fighting against. 

Jetfire wasn't sure himself, but getting up in the air seemed like a good idea to start with, since none of the cultists could fly. Making sure he had a good grip, Jetfire burst upwards, and had to ignore the shrieks of the mechs who'd tossed themselves after them, getting themselves caught in the exhaust from his thrusters.

Above them, one of the plates that made up the ceiling withdrew.

Exit.

\---  
Back at the outpost they'd borrowed and packing up their equipment, they were both hiping not have to leave the moon altogether, even if Jetfire had offered. Starscream had glowered at him. Whatever else they did, a move to a rather more populated location like the spaceport would probably be a prudent idea, even if Boltax could keep his disciples locked in until they left the moon.

Starscream seemed to have gotten stuck packing up samples. Not that he wasn't slow all the time because packing or unpacking equipment was _much too mundane_ a task for _him_ but he usually didn't stop mid-task just standing there with a vague frown on his faceplates.

Jetfire had noticed, of course, but he wasn't going to call attention to it or ask Starscream what he was thinking about quite yet. It was already clear Starscream's memories of the temple and his time with the crown on was somewhat vague and muddled. 

Having finished packing up their scanning equipment, Jetfire went through the notes he'd made so far, pleased that it was enough _something_ useful along with their samples should come out of this research excursion, cut short or not...

And then he stumbled over the recording he'd made of the glyphs in the small stellar gallery in the temple. He'd create a full memory-drawn recording of all the glyphs at a later time, but for now...

"Starscream... do you have a moment?" asked Jetfire, looking up from the computer set in his arm. His voice made the Seeker start, and of course Jetfire got a glare and a sneer because of that. Jetfire just tilted his helm, patiently waiting even if he felt that they should probably not linger too long.

"Yes, _what is it_? I'm _trying_ to defragment my scrambled memories thanks to you not being fast enough to stop those tin-plated wind-up toys from laying hands on me." Starscream snapped, stalking up beside Jetfire and looking at the offered computer, even with his apparent irritability.

Jetfire knew he both was, and wasn't blaming him, and so didn't bother to get frustrated about it. A shade _exasperated_ that he was at all being blamed, but Starscream was Starscream and it didn't matter that Jetfire hadn't had any chance at all to get to Starscream or spot the cultists before Starscream was snagged.

In the Seeker's processor, he should have.

"... Yes? What in the blast am I _looking at_ , Jetfire? If you're trying to make fun of me with nonsense squiggles, I'm going to rewire your recharge slab so you wake up with less energy than you went into recharge with, plus a scrambled defrag-cycle."

Having been staring at the top of Starscream's helm, Jetfire twitched, glancing down in confusion at his arm computer. Maybe he'd messed something up, missed a glyph...

But no, because he could still read them perfectly well. So why couldn't Starscream?

"No, they're..." the murmur trailed off into static and then silence as Jetfire was reminded of something Boltax had said - or rather, the hologram of Boltax, but in the end, if he accepted what had been said, they were as close to one and the same as they could be.

Something about flexible keys..? But that didn't make sense. Sure, a key could be a physical or intangible thing to open a lock, or to solve a code or many other things, but it didn't make sense because shouldn't Starscream be able to read it as well, anyway?

"I must have misrecorded. They made sense earlier. Sorry, Starscream." He should tell him what they said, because it wasn't as if he didn't remember it, and it wasn't as if he couldn't read what they said right now, but... Maybe it was better this way. 

He didn't feel like being laughed or sneered at as Starscream reacted to the religious text segments, and he didn't really actually want to think about what he'd seen or what they'd said further.

Starscream slapped the cockpit and nosecone as he was leaned against the side where that array was attached, and Jetfire couldn't quite keep from wincing as the hit made the armour-glass in the cockpit vibrate too harshly to be pleasant.

"Figures," said Starscream with a snort, but didn't move away and instead folded his arms over his cockpit and relaxed against Jetfire's side, his optics going soft in thought...

"Talking of thing related to the temple, however... Jetfire. Were you kneeling at any point in the temple? You ripped off the... device, but I'm sure we talked before that..." Starscream's voice was somewhere between tentatively inquiring and somehow thoughtfully mischievous. Jetfire froze, looking away as his optics flared but he managed to keep control of his field, leaving it flowing in even pulses along Starscream's twitchy one.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He even managed to sound bland, dismissive of the idea that that had ever happened. The less Starscream remembered of their strange not-conversation in his deep spark-awareness, the better. Probably, anyway. Not because of what they'd said, really, but rather because of what they'd _done_.

He needed to think about it, consider the fact that it'd happened even if Starscream obviously had more natural control in his own... self, spark? Something like that. But he needed to think about it, for the off-chance that something similar would happen _here_. Because if it did, he needed to know where to put down his foot.

That whole thing was probably the part that would actually exist with precise clarity, however, if Starscream ever remembered it. Being that he'd been under some sort of influence at the time, however, and that Starscream wasn't exactly laid towards contemplation of his self, Jetfire doubted he'd remember it exactly.

The pause was long enough he was sure Starscream had accepted that and that that would be it. He should suggest they finish getting their things together and fly back to the space po---

"You'd look good kneeling though."

" _Starscream_ \---!" Jetfire's helm snapped back, his optics wide and bright, tinting his pale face in a blue cast from the still-blue undertones in his otherwise nearly white stare. This time he couldn't keep his field under control, and it flared out in a jounce, jangling against Starscream's, which flicked against it, a humming pulse that was nearly a stroke.

"Very good." The smirk was wide, angled and bright against the darkness of Starscream's faceplates and his optics deep ruby and obnoxiously, dangerously, amused.

Jetfire stared a moment too long, trapped, because there hadn't just been embarrassment or shock in his reaction, but rather a thing that made his field fit against Starscream's heavy one, folding backwards where Starscream's slid against his and _this was why_ he needed to think--- And then he straightened, optics narrowing, reaching out to give a tap to the top of Starscream's helm.

"Starscream. Let's get moving."

The Seeker huffed at him but did as asked, moving to pick up the box with their samples while Jetfire secured their other equipment. There'd be no kneeling. Not now and not... later. At least until he'd had to chance to _think_. 

Either way, they really did need to get back to the space port.

Neither looked back as they transformed and aimed their nosecones for the space port of Moon Beta, though Starscream flew close enough he could angle sideways and scrape the tip of his wing against Jetfire's every now and then. Jetfire's rebukes buzzed with exasperated acceptance, for now ignoring the thrumming tension sliding between their frames, inside their fields. 

Though once, right as they adjusted their course for landing at the space port, he pushed back, wrapping his field around Starscream, and the air between them fuzzed with smug triumph and something softer.

Starscream always got what he wanted, after all, even if that was just Jetfire's complete attention for a moment.

**Author's Note:**

> The collection of recognisable canon excerpts from the Covenant of Primus which has been used in the fic have nearly all been repurposed.


End file.
